


The space in between

by czennie127



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Anal Fingering, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Mark is extremely awkward, No one is surprised, Pining, Praise Kink, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, bffs YuTae, drunk college boys, dudes being dudes, yuta centric, yuta is bad at feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23394574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/czennie127/pseuds/czennie127
Summary: "Yuta doesn’t know if he and Mark will last. He wants to believe so, he desperately hopes that they will – but so did he with Sicheng, and that didn’t stop it from ending the way it did. But there’s something about Mark. It’s an inbetween feeling. Between being a foreigner in Seoul and missing home, and between being back in Japan and missing the freedom of being away. Mark strangely fits in the space in between those feelings."
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong, Mark Lee/Nakamoto Yuta, Minor or Background Relationship(s), past!Nakamoto Yuta/Dong Sicheng
Comments: 31
Kudos: 453





	The space in between

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic wasn't supposed to happen. Then Yuta hugged Mark from behind on Weekly Idol and smiled like a smug idiot about it, so I ended up chained to my laptop writing for the next ten hours. So it goes. 
> 
> MarkYu nation rise ;__;
> 
> Comments and kudos make me the happiest writer in the world :D Find me on tumblr @ mabushii--hikari!

There are plenty of things Yuta didn’t ask for but gets anyway.

Namely: number one, his grades slowly declining because he hasn’t been putting in any work despite Taeyong motivating him (which turned into nagging which turned into fighting which turned into Yuta _maybe_ crying his eyes out about a certain someone. Which is why he’s been avoiding Taeyong like the plague – his pride hasn’t fully recovered yet.)

Number two on the list of things Yuta didn’t ask for, is having Mark Lee as a roommate. He had graciously agreed to switch rooms so Taeyong could be with Jaehyun, since it’s both his and Taeyong’s last year in college. But Jaehyun, the snake, had failed to mention the roommate he had been assigned was this extremely loud language major, who’s always on the phone at ungodly hours (presumably talking to his family back in Canada. If Yuta has to hear again the story about how Seoul is _oh so different_ from Vancouver and how excited Mark is to be here, he’s going to shoot himself.) 

Last but definitely not least, Yuta didn’t ask for a long-distance relationship. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was getting into, though. When he met Sicheng for the first time, he already knew the other was only going to stay in South Korea for a year, and would return to China after the exchange with his university was over. Yuta had willed himself to stay away. But despite the stone-cold image he liked to give of himself, Nakamoto Yuta fell in love easily, and he had fallen hard and fast for Dong Sicheng. It was heaven, for a whole year. He helped Sicheng with his Korean, laughing at the way he adorably stumbled through the words. He took him on dates and held his hand and kissed him in front of everyone, because Yuta was shameless like that, tongue down his throat and hands firm on his ass before pulling away, cocking an eyebrow and saying, point blank: “So, from now on we’re exclusive.” It was heaven, until it wasn’t. 

The first month after Sicheng had moved back to China had been filled with promises, plans to meet up for Christmas (“We could meet halfway, I could show you Osaka in winter”), Skype calls whenever they were free, even longer Skype calls whenever their roommates were away and Yuta could watch Sicheng fall apart on a screen, skin flushed and Yuta’s name on his lips. The second month there had been less calls and less promises. Yuta told himself it was normal. That their relationship was moving on to another phase. He told himself it was okay if Sicheng didn’t call as often, and if that silence didn’t bother him as much as it should have. On the third month, Christmas getting closer, they still had made no concrete plans to meet, and Yuta could only be in denial for so long.

All three reasons are a perfectly valid excuse to get wasted at the party the new exchange student from Chicago has thrown, Taeyong and Jaehyun watching him like worried parents. Yuta tries to hide the pang of jealousy upon seeing Jaehyun’s arm quietly resting around Taeyong’s slim hips, and downs another shot.

“Hyung, slow down,” tries Jaehyun, chewing nervously on his lip, “I’m sure he just forgot to call. He must be really busy, didn’t you say he had an upcoming exa-“

“My grades are shit,” states Yuta, interrupting him. His death-stare is enough for Jaehyun to immediately shut up. “I want to strangle my roommate. And my boyfriend is ignoring me on purpose. So why on earth, Jung Jaehyun, should I _slow down_?”

The other looks kind of offended at the bitterness in his voice, which Yuta would care about if he wasn’t so drunk. Taeyong finally steps in, whispering something to his boyfriend – who promptedly walks away to go greet some friends. Taeyong grabs Yuta’s wrist before he can get a hold of another drink.

“Stop.”

“Did you not hear a single word I just said?”

“Your grades are still average, and you can get them up again in no time. I can help, if you want. Jaehyun too. And Mark is actually a really nice kid, which you would’ve seen already if you’d given him a chance, instead of scaring him away and threatening to kill him for as much as breathing. And Sicheng…”

“Sicheng?”

Taeyong grabs a drink for himself. 

“I’m sorry, man. I really thought it would work out.”

Yuta is not feeling up to another heart to heart with Taeyong, so he steals his drink. 

“We talked about it, hyung. It’s… it’s fine. I knew it would happen, eventually.”

“You have to tell him.”

“Tell him what?”

“That you don’t love him anymore.”

Yuta swallows. He hates hearing the words. Even more so because they’re true. He doesn’t know why he’s still stalling: he’s aware Sicheng has fallen out of love with him too, and they could even stay friends if they handled it the right way. But last year Yuta had been _so sure_ he and Sicheng would last. He can’t have yet another failed relationship, because what would that say about him? What is so wrong with him that people get bored of him so easily, desperately eager to move on? Sometimes he wonders if his friendship with Taeyong will eventually meet the same fate. If his best friend will get so enveloped by Jaehyun that he decides to leave him (and those two, those two _do_ feel like forever and meant to be and all those things Yuta tells himself he’s too rational to want, but secretly craves). 

“You’re spiraling,” says Taeyong, stealing his drink back. “And you’re drunk. You need to go home. Mark!” he yells, all of a sudden. Yuta wants to bang his head against the wall.

“Um, hi hyung, is everything alright?”

“Go away,” groans Yuta, burying his face in his hands so he doesn’t even have to look at the kid. 

“Yuta is drunk and stupid and needs to go back to the dorm,” says Taeyong, voice cold as he smacks Yuta on the back of his head. He doesn’t even react to that. “You looked like you were leaving, so maybe you two could walk back together?”

“Wow, hyung,” says Yuta, lifting his head slightly, “if all you wanted was to get rid of me so you and Jaehyun could go fuck in the bathrooms, you could’ve just said so.”

He glances at Mark, who blushes furiously at his words, like he knew he would. And – Yuta is not an asshole. Mark is annoying and too enthusiastic and has a squeaky laugh that feels entirely too inappropriate when it’s two a.m. and Yuta is trying to sleep, but he’s also kind of endearing in his own way. Naive is not quite the right word, but – 

“Cute,” says Yuta out loud, still staring at Mark. He’d like to pull the drunk excuse, but the truth is that Yuta is known to speak his mind even when he really should shut up (which is probably what Taeyong is thinking, judging by his expression.)

“He’s drunk,” repeats Mark robotically, his face basically going purple. “Right. You want me to… Take him back to the dorm? Right. Okay. Consider it done!” He’s starting to sound hysterical. “Yuta-hyung?” he asks then, in a small voice. 

Yuta cracks an eye open again, only to find out Taeyong has already left without as much as saying goodbye, and Mark is still standing with his hands in his pockets, looking significantly uncomfortable. Yuta’s brain also supplies that he’s wearing tight black jeans, the rips faintly showing the pale skin of his thighs, and his shirt has come half-undone halfway through the party. _Pretty_.

“Alright,” he grumbles, dragging himself off the barstool and fixing Mark with a stare. “We’re going.”

The redness seems permanently glued to Mark’s cheeks, but he nods and then laughs nervously when Yuta almost trips over his own feet. They manage to get out of the house, the loud music leaving Yuta’s ears empty as they walk away, head filled with the faint sound of his and Mark’s footsteps. 

“Fuck, it’s cold,” hisses Mark. 

“It’s December. You should’ve worn a jacket.”

“But then no one would have seen my outfit,” he pouts. Then, surprisingly daring, he adds: “Aren’t you gonna offer me your coat?”

He scoffs. “Fuck off.”

Mark keeps shivering for the next two minutes. Yuta takes off his coat and hands it to him.

“What? Hyung – I was joking, you’re gonna freeze.”

“Well, I’m serious. Just take it before I change my mind.”

Mark thanks him quietly, slipping into Yuta’s coat, too long sleeves covering his hands. Yuta looks at him for a second. He should shut up. He should really – 

“Cute,” he says again, and Mark audibly gulps, which makes Yuta laugh.

“Stop making fun of me,” whines Mark. “You’re a mean drunk.”

“ _Mean_? Want me to take my coat back?”

Mark smiles a little at that, and they hurry back to their dorm as fast as they can, Yuta’s tipsy brain trying to make his legs function enough to keep up with Mark. When he closes the door behind them, he silently watches his roommate toe off his shoes.

“Do you want some water?” asks Mark, and catches him staring. “What?”

“You can take it off now. The coat.”

“Oh, sure.”

Mark blushes again and avoids his eyes, taking Yuta’s too long coat off and folding it neatly before putting it on his bed. 

“So. Water?”

“I’m good,” says Yuta, flopping down on his bed after kicking his boots off. “I’m not even that drunk, Taeyong was just giving me a hard time.”

“About what?”

Yuta rolls to his side so he can look at Mark, who’s now sitting on his bed, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. His hands are graceful, fingers long and slender. His face is still flushed. It could be the cold. Yuta knows better. 

“That’s none of your business,” he says, grinning despite himself.

Mark pauses, opens his mouth, closes it again. Then he shakes his head. “I thought Japanese people were supposed to be polite.”

It’s such a random and unexpected answer that it makes Yuta laugh. 

“Sorry for not living up to the expectations,” he says, half in Japanese and half in Korean. 

“You’re drunk. I’m gonna get you some water and… Yeah. Then you can sleep. Okay.”

Mark walks into the bathroom to go fill a glass of water. Yuta is feeling completely sober except for the fact that, instead of making his mind cloudy and his speech slurred, the alcohol is making him even less subtle than usual, if that’s even possible. 

“Taeyong was nagging me about Sicheng,” he says when Mark returns with the water. He never bothers using honorifics when Taeyong is not present. “My boyfriend, kind of. The one you caught me having phone sex with?”

Mark almost drops the glass and shakily sits down next to him.

“Ah, yes, that was – “ he splutters, “an experience.” A pause. “How can someone be _kind of_ your boyfriend?”

Yuta has no reason to tell his aggravatingly nosy roommate about Sicheng. All the shots he downed seem to think otherwise. 

“We’re not doing that great,” he admits, finally accepting the water. “He was an exchange student here last year. Then he went away and things got… complicated.”

“Are you in love with him?”

Mark sounds so serious when he says that, almost concerned. Almost a little bit sad. 

“I…” Yuta pauses. “I used to be. Now it’s different. I know he’s moving on, and so am I, I guess. With me things never tend to last that long.”

He expects Mark to say something judgemental, for some reason, instead the other just hums quietly.

“I get that. When I was a kid… my family used to move around a lot. First New York, then we had to move to Canada because of my parents’ job. Toronto. Vancouver, after that.” 

“Why did you move to Seoul then?”

“I don’t know.” Mark shrugs while Yuta drinks the water and puts the glass down on the table next to his bed. “Because it never felt like home, I guess? My parents are both from Seoul. I thought… I thought I could find something, here.”

“And did you?”

“Maybe? I’m not sure. I’m still looking.” He swallows. “It’s hard, sometimes. Don’t you miss Japan?”

“Hmm.” Yuta rolls on his back again, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah. I can’t wait to go home for winter break. Back to the polite people of Osaka,” he adds, just to tease him, and he can hear Mark laughing softly.

“Sorry. That was dumb.”

“It’s okay. I am one rude Japanese man and proud to be one.”

Mark laughs louder at that.

“Are you gonna be okay, hyung?”

“I told you I’m not that drunk.”

“I meant about – “ 

“I know what you meant.” They’re both quiet for a while. “I think so. Everything has to end sooner or later, right? You keep looking though, Mark Lee. Now get off my bed and let me sleep,” he adds, kicking Mark harder than he intended and laughing at him when he lands with his ass on the floor. 

Yuta takes off his shirt and, ignoring a flustered Mark, chucks it to the floor and crawls under the blankets. 

  


* * * 

  


Yuta breaks up with Sicheng over the phone, on New Year’s Eve. They both cry. They both say sorry and promise to stay friends. Yuta doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep that promise.

He feels a dull ache in his chest as he ignores his friends’ texts to go back downstairs, and climbs on the balcony of a room not his own, fireworks briefly igniting the night sky. He thinks about calling Taeyong, partly to tell him about Sicheng and partly to wish him a happy new year. He’d never admit it out loud, but he misses him. It’s odd, how when he’s in Seoul he would give anything to be back in Osaka, surrounded by people who speak his language and he’s known for years; but as soon as he’s back home he gets this sudden urge to run away.

He dials a number.

“Hyung?”

“Were you sleeping?”

“No – I mean, yeah, it’s eight a.m., I always sleep in when I – wait, isn’t it midnight in Japan?”

Hearing Mark’s voice shouldn’t be as soothing as it is.

“Yeah. Happy 2020?” 

“Still 2019 here, sorry.” He pauses. “Why are you calling me at midnight?”

“You can hang up if you want.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

Yuta sighs. He can recognize the slight panic in Mark’s voice. Another odd thing in Yuta’s life? Over the past few weeks, his attention has turned into tunnel vision towards Mark Lee. The really bad but still somehow funny jokes. His accent. His truly terrible fashion sense, which he still manages to pull off. The shyness in his voice when he offered to help him study for his midterms, despite the fact that Mark is a language major and knows nothing about biochem.

“I broke up with Sicheng.”

“Oh.” A beat. “Wow. I’m sorry, hyung. Shitty timing, too,” he adds. 

Yuta finds himself laughing. “I know, right? Who does that on New Year’s Eve?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He takes a sip of champagne. “I feel better. Kind of sad. I miss – Seoul,” he says, after a slight hesitaton.

“I thought you couldn’t wait to be back in Osaka?”

“I thought so too. But it’s always better in my memories.”

“I miss Seoul too,” whispers Mark after a few seconds of silence, and suddenly it feels too much. Yuta is starting to sweat.

“Sorry I woke you up. You should go back to sleep.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. Call me tomorrow?”

“What?” he blurts out, too shocked to stop himself. 

“If you – I mean, you don’t have to – I could wake up early or something, we can make it work – “ 

_What the fuck, Mark Lee_ , is what he wants to say, but the words don’t come out. What is Mark trying to say? Is calling each other daily a friendly thing? Would Taeyong ask him that too? Sicheng never sounded as eager for Yuta to call him. Mark is – 

“Okay,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut. “Sure, I’ll call you tomorrow. Now go to sleep.”

Mark chuckles, a bit timid, a bit relieved. “Yes, hyung.” It sounds almost _obedient_ and it makes a shiver run down Yuta’s spine. “Happy new year.”

Yuta just hangs up. It takes him a while before he goes back inside. 

  


* * *

  


Things should be awkward when they get back to Seoul. They’ve been calling and texting every single day for almost a week, Mark even video-calling him to show him the snow in Vancouver. He had just woken up, hair still messy from sleep. And Yuta has seen Mark like that countless times – they literally live together – but for some reason it did something weird to him that twisted his insides, and he didn’t like it one bit. 

Things should be awkward, yet they aren’t. 

Yuta’s grades are getting better, and this time he does have a long conversation with Taeyong – about Sicheng (and in turn, about how head over heels Taeyong is for Jaehyun, and about how scared that makes him feel), about graduation, about what’s gonna happen after college, about Christmas in Osaka and Taeyong’s parents meeting Jaehyun. After that they just lie in bed together, drinking beer silently until they fall asleep. They’re woken up by the sound of the door slamming as Mark is on his way out. Taeyong gives Yuta a weird look, but he ignores it.

Things aren’t awkward, but they’re tense. Like the atmosphere is charged with electricity and Yuta and Mark are each holding a bucket of water, and could make the whole place go up in flames with one wrong move. But Yuta is greedy, and he’s started enjoying Mark’s company to the point of neediness. He drags him to his own lectures when Mark has a free period, and convinces him to skip class in favor of getting coffee, Yuta splayed on the field despite the terrible weather, Mark’s face completely covered by the layers of scarves and turtlenecks pulled up over his chin. 

Things settle down. Yuta is heartbroken for a while, or maybe he isn’t, but he still mourns the loss of what could have been. It gets better. He finally gets over his overprotective best friend act to give Jaehyun a real chance, and before he knows it they’re hanging out on weekends and watching football games together, which Taeyong finds partly sweet and mostly terrifying, especially when Jaehyun kicks him out of their room because, “It’s game night, baby, Yuta-hyung will be here soon.”

Yuta’s grades go from average to good again, and him and Taeyong spend a good portion of their time slaving away in the library. Taeyong manages to rope Jaehyun into their study sessions, mostly so he can go make out with him whenever he needs a break (and his dick needs some attention, supplies Yuta helpfully, which earns him a kick from Taeyong and a smug laugh from Jaehyun.) So it’s only fair that Yuta bring his own emotional support too, which is how they all end up in the library on a Saturday morning – him, Taeyong, Jaehyun and Mark. 

Mark is still sleepy (he’s really not a morning person, and Yuta isn’t either, but he’s also too panicked about his exams to sleep) and he stretches lazily on the chair as he watches Yuta anxiously flip through his textbook. 

“I’m gonna go get some coffee. You want one too, hyung?” he asks, getting up and turning slightly towards Yuta. He nods absent-mindedly, still staring at his textbook and highlighting words furiously.

“Yeah,” he turns a page. “Thanks, babe.”

He hears a squeak but doesn’t pay it any mind – Mark is clumsy as hell, he probably slipped or something – and keeps taking notes for a solid minute before it finally downs on him. He lifts his eyes slowly. Taeyong and Jaehyun are both staring at him. 

“What the fuck, Yuta,” says Taeyong, looking like he wants to laugh. 

Yuta doesn’t really have an answer to that. When Mark gets back with his coffee, he doesn’t meet his eyes. 

Mark gets away with an excuse a few hours later, and Yuta doesn’t see him – or hear from him – for the rest of the day. He’s starting to get worried when it’s past midnight and Mark still hasn’t shown up at the dorm. Suddenly, Mark’s name flashes on his phone’s display. Yuta picks up immediately.

“Where are – “ 

“Hey, is this Mark’s roommate?”

“What – yeah, it’s me. Where the hell is Mark?”

“Um,” The guy on the phone pauses. “Throwing up, I think. Unless he already passed out.” Another pause. “Okay, I checked, he hasn’t passed out but looks close to it. I’m Lee Donghyuck, I’m in Mark’s Japanese class?” He sounds tentative. “He’s really drunk. He’s kind of a lightweight, he doesn’t normally drink this much, and he told me to call you before he locked himself in the bathroom, so. I did? I think you need to pick him up.”

“Calm down, kid,” says Yuta, slowing him down. He’s already pulling a sweater over his head. “Where are you?” Donghyuck gives him the address. “I’ll be there in ten.”

When he gets to the place, it’s full of underclassmen and literature majors and people he doesn’t know, but Yuta still makes his way through, asking for Donghyuck. A girl takes pity on him and points him upstairs, where Yuta finds a boy in the corridor – presumably Donghyuck. 

“Where is he?” he asks, exasperated.

Donghyuck seems to recognize him immediately and points to the door behind him. 

“I wouldn’t – “ 

Yuta ignores him and gets in. 

Mark is on the floor, next to the toilet, his face the kind of washed out green of someone who just puked his guts out. 

“Hyung,” he whines when he sees Yuta, “My head hurts.”

Yuta makes a face, flushes the toilet and bends down until he can look Mark in the eyes.

“Can you stand?”

“I don’t wanna,” he sniffles.

“Stop acting like a child. How much did you drink anyway?”

“Go away.”

“I was _in bed_. You literally had your friend call me here and now you want me to go?”

“Were you in bed with someone?” slurs Mark, eyes glossed over. 

Yuta is taken aback for a second. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. It’s not supposed to – just go. Call Sicheng or something.”

“Mark, you’re not making any sense. Get up from this filthy fucking floor so we can go home.”

It’s the way he says it, perhaps, _home_ , but it stops Mark in his tracks. He suddenly blushes like he just realized what he said. 

“Are you mad at me?”

Yuta would really like to tell him to shove it, and leave and go back to bed. But it’s Mark, so he just says, “No, but I will be if you don’t start listening to me. Get up, I’m taking you home.”

“Okay.” Mark still looks close to crying, and Yuta will seriously never let him drink again, but he eventually manages to get up and leans against the wall. “I’m, um. Sorry I mentioned Sicheng.”

“It’s okay, you’re drunk.”

“It’s not – “ 

“It’s okay,” repeats Yuta, and this time looks at him straight in the eyes. He breathes deeply. “It doesn’t… it doesn’t hurt anymore. So don’t worry about it. Let’s just get out of here, yeah?”

Mark nods without a word, so Yuta drags him outside and, after thanking Donghyuck for taking care of him, down the stairs and finally out on the street, where the cold air seems to sober him up a little. He hears a choked sound, and for a second he thinks Mark is going to throw up again, before he looks at him and – 

“What the fuck – are you crying?”

“Fuck off. I’m not.”

“Dude, seriously, what – “ 

Mark suddenly stops and Yuta goes back two steps. 

“Why did you – this morning. Are you playing with me? It’s not funny, hyung. I know it’s just a joke to you, but it’s _not funny_. Please stop. Please.”

He’s definitely crying now, and Yuta is at a loss for words. He feels like an idiot, but it’s not like Mark has been particularly transparent himself. Except – how could he think that – but he’s drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. So Yuta doesn’t reply, just drags Mark back to their dorm, gets him out of his hoodie and into his bed where Mark falls asleep immediately, snoring loudly. 

It takes Yuta over two hours to fall asleep, and it’s not because of the snoring. 

  


* * *

  


The next morning Yuta wakes up first. He figured he would. He considers slipping out of the room to go hide at Taeyong’s, then looks at Mark’s sleeping figure, face still a little pale, and he’s looking for some Tylenol and water before he knows it. He puts everything on Mark’s nightstand and heads out to get him coffee and something to eat. 

He does everything on autopilot, refusing to think about what Mark said last night, and when he gets back to their room he can hear Mark in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He stops for a second when he hears the door, then spits out the water, and Yuta looks over at the nightstand – it looks like Mark accepted the silent offer – and balances the coffee and food on it. Then he sits on Mark’s bed, not quite knowing what else to do. It takes Mark a while before he musters up the courage to leave the bathroom. He blushes as soon as he sees Yuta.

“Oh. Hi, hyung.”

“I brought you food,” he says, and Mark just nods, sits next to him and starts eating in silence, downing his coffee in one go. The silence is stretched thin now. Yuta clears his throat and Mark looks at him, startled. 

“So,” says Yuta, uncertain.

Mark looks like he wants to run away. “I’m really sorry, hyung.” Yuta tries to interrupt him, but Mark doesn’t let him. “I made things weird, I shouldn’t have said anything. I know you don’t feel… We’re friends. I’m glad we are. Let’s just leave it at that, yeah?” 

“Is that what you want?”

Mark pauses, looks at him. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“I’m just wondering if you meant what you said, or if you’re just having a good old case of gay panic.”

“Nah,” says Mark, weirdly casual, “That happened when I made out with my best friend when I was sixteen. I’m over it.” 

“So is lusting after your friends your _thing_ then?” asks Yuta with a grin.

Marks gasps, and flushes harder. “I’m not lusting – “ 

“Really?”

He lifts an eyebrow. Mark looks at him helplessly.

“I’m not,” he says again. “Or maybe I am. A little bit. But it’s not just that.” He pauses, averts his gaze. “I like you?”

“Are you asking me that?”

Mark almost shoves him off the bed. “Stop being a dick!”

“Sorry,” he’s laughing, even though he feels a bit weak in the knees, because Mark is so damn honest in everything he does. “You’re too cute not to mess with. And also really dumb.” Mark just looks at him. “Did you really thing I was fucking with you? Stringing you along or something?”

Mark dares to look a bit hopeful. “I mean – I don’t know? You’re friendly.”

“I’m friendly,” deadpans Yuta. “Me. Nakamoto Yuta. Friendly.”

“Okay, maybe not the friendliest person I’ve ever met, but still. Still,” he says again, as if he’s looking for a good reason to prove his point. He gives up easily when Yuta smiles at him. “Yeah, actually I have no idea.”

“You’re so dumb.”

“I thought I was cute?”

“Don’t get cheeky.”

“I brushed my teeth, just in case you were wondering. So, you know.”

Yuta blurts out a laugh. “You’re really something, you know that?”

Mark smiles, as shy as ever, and as much as Yuta enjoys teasing him it’s almost inevitable when he pulls him closer and touches their foreheads together. Mark’s eyes go wide. 

“So pretty,” he whispers, twirling Mark’s hair around his fingers, watching the blush spread on his cheeks and then to his ears, his mouth pink and perfectly curved. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Mark looks like he’s taking a test and he’s just been asked a trick question, so Yuta answers it for him. He’s never kissed anyone the way he kisses Mark. Careful, delicate, just a press of the lips at first to make sure Mark doesn’t want to pull away. When he feels him grab uncerimoniously at his shirt, he know he doesn’t. He licks his lips and Mark opens his mouth eagerly, a low moan rolling on Yuta’s tongue, his cheeks growing hotter under Yuta’s fingers but Mark growing bolder too, kissing him more hungrily, trying to get them as close as possible. They’re still sitting next to each other, the position awkward, so Yuta just grabs Mark by the hips and all but positions him over his lap, Mark grinding down immediately – and holy shit, Yuta hadn’t expected him to be so bold, but he’s not complaining. He breaks the kiss for a second, still holding Mark by the hips, well-aware that he’s getting hard just from making out and not all that sure what to do about it. This is Mark. His friend, his _kouhai_. He doesn’t really know what he’s allowed to do – what Mark wants. 

“Why’d you stop,” whines Mark, this time grabbing at Yuta’s hair and pulling slightly. He gasps. 

“I – fucking hell Mark – “ he’s pulling off Yuta’s shirt all of a sudden, nails dragging on his chest, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“You’re so fucking hot,” huffs Mark, ignoring his question. “It’s unfair.” 

Then he kisses him again, pressing himself against Yuta’s naked chest and grinding his hips down harder, the fabric making the friction almost painful. That doesn’t stop Yuta from bucking his hips up, hand coming to the small of Mark’s back and then a bit lower. Mark moans again, then actually pushes his ass back against his hand. 

“Fuck,” breates Yuta, kissing down Mark’s neck. “Mark, maybe we should talk – “ 

“Later,” he cuts him off, urging him over when despite himself Yuta makes the motion to take his top off – he’s still wearing pajamas, and looks way too adorable and sinful at the same time for Yuta’s brain to work properly. Soon he has his mouth attached to one of Mark’s nipples, the other groaning in pleasure when he bites slightly at the sensitive skin. Yuta likes to think he has more self-control than this. But yet again, it’s Mark. So all he can do is kiss him hard one more time then throw him on the bed, back hitting the mattress, and Mark’s hands start to wander on Yuta’s stomach, indulging over the crease of his muscles, then they dip lower. When Mark tries to unbutton his jeans, Yuta breaks the kiss again. His head is spinning. He’s also so hard it’s starting to hurt, cock straining against his pants.

“Baby, wait.” Of all things, Mark blushes at the pet name, and looks up at him with innocent eyes – the little devil. 

“What?” he pouts. 

“Don’t give me that,” laughs Yuta, shoving him slightly. “What are we doing here?”

“I’m trying to get your pants off,” says Mark, matter of factly, “and you’re interrupting.”

Yuta laughs again, feeling a bit giddy, this time pressing his face against the crook of his neck – his skin is so warm, and for a second Yuta kind of forgets how to speak. 

“I mean – do you want to slow down?”

“Not unless you want to. Hyung, don’t… don’t panic, okay? I’m not completely clueless. I just want to be close to you, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah.” Yuta isn’t proud of how quickly he accepts the answer, and immediately pulls Mark’s pants down. He’s not wearing any underwear, and Yuta almost chokes on his own words. “That’s okay.”

The kiss is more rushed this time, both of them already too worked up from months of pining and sexual tension, and Mark barely manages to get Yuta’s jeans halfway off before the other grabs the lube he assumed Mark keeps in his drawer (he was right), spreads it over his fingers and slowly wraps his hand around Mark’s cock. Mark moans, head thrown back, dark hair splayed over the pillow. He thrusts shallowly into his hand. 

“Fuck, hyung, Yuta, please,” he whines, needy, eyes flying open and looking for him. But Yuta only gives him a few more strokes before pulling away, spreading more lube on his fingers, precum already on Mark’s tip.

He nudges his legs open, and Mark immediately lifts his hips up a bit when Yuta tentatively circles his hole with a finger, feeling him shiver all over. Yuta looks at him asking for confirmation. Mark, impatient, grabs his wrist and just stares at him, chest rising and falling fast, his skin flushed. He looks breath-taking. Yuta is willing to give him anything he asks. 

When he pushes a finger inside Mark, he has to stop for a second to collect himself, everything too tight and hot. He expected Mark to need a moment to adjust, but he should have known better, because Mark is already trying to fuck himself on his fingers, asking for a second one. And who is Yuta to deny him.

“God, I love your hands,” he babbles, words broken by moans, which only get higher in pitch when Yuta swipes his tongue over his cock, working him open with three fingers now. “Your fingers are so fucking long, hyung, _fuck_ , I stare at them all the time, stare at you all the time, keep imagining how it’d feel to have you inside me – “ 

Mark comes on Yuta’s tongue with a loud groan as the only warning, three fingers still up his ass and pressing against his sweet spot relentlessly. His face is flushed as he begs Yuta to kiss him, and he complies without hesitation, lube and come making the kiss even filthier. Mark loves every second of it.

“You took my fingers so well,” says Yuta into the kiss, grinding against Mark’s thigh. “Such a good boy, aren’t you? Bet you’d roll over for my cock too, if I asked you to.” Mark moans weakly, sneaking a hand into his boxers – finally – and wrapping it around Yuta’s dick. “Fuck, I keep thinking about it. You’d look so pretty spread open for me, _begging_ – “ His voice breaks as Mark strokes him faster, and then Yuta is coming too, painting Mark’s stomach with white and groaning in satisfaction at the sight. He never thought of himself as possessive until now. 

He rolls off Mark’s body, knowing his weight is too much for him, and they try to fit in the single bed as they catch their breath.

“So,” says Mark after a minute, “that thing you said, about you fucking me? We should totally do that.”

Yuta laughs, not even surprised anymore at Mark’s honesty, and kisses him hard and deep, nails dragging against his skin, fantasizing about biting and scratching until Mark is shaking and his skin is completely littered with marks. 

“Let me take you out first?” he says, and he knows he’s smiling like an idiot; but Mark is too, so it’s fine. 

“Okay,” he agrees, content. “So, just to make sure, I’m not a rebound for your ex, right?”

Yuta stares at him speechless. Then he pinches his side hard. 

“You’re an idiot, not a rebound,” he hisses, biting at his earlobe. “And you’re also my boyfriend.”

“I don’t recall you asking – “ 

“Are you saying no?”

Mark grins. Of course he’s blushing. 

“So where are we going on our first date?” he asks, chipper.

Yuta calls him a brat and shuts him up with a kiss. They do go on a date, which is not unlike their usual hangouts at the cafe, except this time they can make out over the table and embarrass the waitress, and except this time they go back to the dorm and Yuta can bend Mark in half and make him come twice before he even starts fucking him, taking his sweet time to break him. 

It should be awkward like all first-time sex is, and it almost is, especially when Mark reveals it’s _actually_ his first time. Yuta has a minor mental breakdown over it, wondering if he’s worth it. The asshole has a laughing fit when he says as much, but it’s alright because the whole thing ends up with Mark’s face streaked with tears as Yuta pushes his tongue deep inside him. It should be awkward, and it is, but it’s also _them_ , and it’s messy and hot and desperate and it shouldn’t be the best sex Yuta has ever had but it still is. Because it’s Mark. And when Mark is asleep, the two of them still crammed in the tiny single bed, he briefly thinks about Sicheng, about how nothing ever feels like it will last – and about how nothing has ever lasted for Mark either. He wonders if he found what he was looking for – a home – here in Seoul. He almost wakes him up to ask him. Yuta doesn’t know if he and Mark will last. He wants to believe so, he desperately hopes that they will – but so did he with Sicheng, and that didn’t stop it from ending the way it did. But there’s something about Mark. It’s an inbetween feeling. Between being a foreigner in Seoul and missing home, and between being back in Japan and missing the freedom of being away. Mark strangely fits in the space in between those feelings. He doesn’t make Yuta want to run away – be that back to his past or anywhere else. And that’s new, so for now he’ll take it. It’s enough. He looks at Mark again. It’s more than enough.

“Hyung, it’s creepy to stare at people while they’re sleeping.”

Yuta laughs, covers his mouth with a hand and hugs him closer. Of course Mark tries to bite his fingers away. And of course he gets hard when in turn Yuta shoves them in his mouth. 

He doesn’t know if Mark has found his home – not yet, probably. But they’re both looking for it. And it’s somewhere, out there, or maybe inside their very room, air hot and thick. Still, it’s somewhere, and maybe it’s not in Osaka and not in Vancouver and not even in Seoul – maybe it’s in between. They can look for it a little bit longer. 

  



End file.
